


A Lot of Favorites

by zarabithia



Category: NCIS
Genre: Community: schmoop_bingo, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6627991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slice of future Tony and Tim's domestic bliss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lot of Favorites

**Author's Note:**

> Written a million years ago, so Ziva's fate does not match the show.

Ten years didn't dull the irritation with which Tony's hand reached out and slapped the snooze button on the alarm. Nor did it dull the sharp jab with which Tim elbowed Tony in the ribs. "It's Monday. Get up."

"Ow. Ten more minutes."

"Tony, that doesn't work with our _four-year-old._ "

"You've loved me longer."

"And every morning I wonder why."

"Yell after you get out of the shower." Tony rolled over then, and brought the blanket with him. Tim continued to grumble, but ten years was long enough that "selective hearing" was a well-honed trait.

The ten minutes went by faster than they had a right to, but Tony kept his word (and would have _without_ the wet handslap to the back of the head) and got out of bed as reluctantly as a Monday morning deserved when Tim yelled at him. Tony showered fast and was dressed before Tim had time to finish checking his morning emails. "You doing kid duty this morning or am I?"

"You're the one who wanted to let her stay up for the Charlie Brown marathon. You go deal with Gail's cranky morning breath. I'll make breakfast."

"My child needs to be well-versed in the classics," Tony answered flippantly.

"Our child is well-versed in the DiNozzo temper."

It did take several attempts to wake Caitlin Abigail DiNozzo-McGee up, because you couldn't give your child a wet Gibbs slap to the back of the head. By the time he had her awake and ready to eat, it was time to go.

"This is why pop-tarts were invented, Tim."

"Can I have fudge-flavor?"

"No, Gail, you cannot. My sister is going to not let me live this down, you know that, right? All night Charlie Brown marathon, pop-tarts for breakfast..."

"If your sister is that upset about it, she can make a better breakfast that Katie has time to eat. Eat the blueberry one, Katie. It has fruit in it."

"But I don't want blueberry. I want fudge!"

"Eat an _apple_ ," Tim corrected, with the kind of exasperated sigh that made Tony want to take the time to be late doing all the things that he couldn't do anymore, because he had a four-year-old in the kitchen. "And that's fine. _You_ can take her to Sarah."

"You fight dirty, McGee." With a sigh, Tony scooped their daughter up. He made sure she got her apple and blueberry pop-tart before sliding a fudge-flavored one into his coat pocket for later.

 

~~~

The pop-tart had to wait, of course. It waited through a thirty minute video conference with the SecNav and through the a ten minute telephone conference with a secret service agent that had all of the late great Kate Todd's disdain for Tony and absolutely none of her warmth. Throughout the years since Kate Todd's death, Tony had come to think of her whenever anyone was letting it be known that they obviously thought he was full of shit. He also had come to think of her whenever he was greeted by an old friend (he sometimes still wished that it could be her on the other end of whatever phone was ringing, no matter how many years had passed.)

It was an odd little binary, but Tony figured anyone who knew Kate would have understood, and if Kate could see him from her spot in the afterlife, she'd likely would have approved - especially when Tony was being told he was full of shit.

The pop-tart also had to wait for Tony to hang up on the annoying secret service agent and open up his budget report.

He had the package open and the first pop-tart half-way to his mouth, ready to fuel up the energy needed to finish the monotonous drudgery, when Hurricane Ziva blew through the door.

She'd known how to knock, once. Of course, that had been back when _he_ hadn't been the director.

"Problem, Special Agent David?"

"Yes!" She strode forward and smashed her palms down on top of his desk. She leaned forward enough that Tony had to scoot his chair back ever so slightly in order to continue eating his pop-tart without sharing any spit with Ziva.

"And what might that problem be?"

"The probie you gave me is a moron."

"Ah, the days of moronic probies. I recall them fondly."

It earned him a glare, to which Tony shrugged innocently. "You have no proof that I wasn't talking about McGee."

"I think the years of domestic bliss count in my favor as proof, Tony."

"Details, Ziva, details."

~~~

It was one of those days, apparently, that everyone had a problem. Before noon, Tony had to deal with the chief lab person (who had a name, but who would never stop being "Not Abby" in Tony's head, and not just because of the red hair and _suits_ that she insisted on wearing), a complaint from Tim's cyber department geek squad, and a complaint from Palmer that involved way too many bodily fluids before lunch.

Tony was finishing up his pop-tart when the call from Gibbs came in.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing?"

"Aw, Gibbs, I missed you, too."

" _DiNozzo._ "

"Technically, it's Director DiNozzo."

"Technically, I don't give a rat's ass. Why are there agents on my beach, DiNozzo?"

"Well, that's a long story - "

"Talk fast."

Old habits died hard, and Tony couldn't quite disobey the command, even if Gibbs had long since retired. Likewise, when the call was over, Tony had an incredible urge to smack the back of his own head.

He did manage to grab a quick lunch, which was fortunate, because his afternoon was even busier than his morning had been.

~~

It was eight o'clock by the time Tony made it home. Because they'd long ago had the foresight to start using separate cars to drive to work, Tim was already tucking Katie into bed by the time Tony poked his head in.

That was actually not a new situation for them, either.

"You look like crap," Tim greeted, looking up from the fairy tale he was reading.

"Daddy!" Katie lifted her arms up, demanding a hug. Then she wrinkled her nose as he bent down. "Ew, daddy, you smell bad."

"Aunt Ziva dragged me out to the wilderness today," Tony huffed. "It's all her fault."

Katie clapped her hands with barely constrained delight. "Aunt Ziva is my favorite. And Aunt Abby. And Aunt Sarah - "

"And you have a lot of favorites," Tim interrupted. "You also have a bedtime, Gail."

Katie sighed, and reached out for another hug, which of course she received before Tony slipped out of the room to let Tim finish up the bedtime stories.

Two stories later, she was asleep, and Tim joined Tony in the kitchen. "Today, Aunt Sarah taught Gail about Emily Dickinson and the patriarchy."

"Ew," Tony proclaimed, around his warmed up chicken.

"Oh, it was a barrel of laughs. I can't wait for Aunt Abby to add to her fountain of knowledge about the patriarchy," Tim sighed. "But you actually look like you had a worse day than I did."

"It sucked. Part of the job, though."

Tim nodded. "After you're done eating, maybe you can tell me about it."

Tony made a face.

"Or...maybe we can skip the talking and move right onto the sex," Tim offered.

Tony finished his dinner as fast as he possibly could, while still chewing.

After all, there were some things that ten years together just couldn't dull.


End file.
